


Master Mind (Sherlock Fanfic)

by mickeygallagherr



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle, johnlock - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Crazy, Crimes & Criminals, Doctor John Watson, Enemy Lovers, Gen, M/M, Multi, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 20:29:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3302450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeygallagherr/pseuds/mickeygallagherr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Everything<br/>you have ever known is false.<br/>Everything you have ever feared is true.<br/>Why?<br/>You shall never know.”</p><p>Life goes on at 221B Baker Street where detective<br/>Sherlock Holmes and partner John Watson solve cases and deduce crime scenes<br/>until one day, two terrified parents ask them to find their long missing, dead<br/>daughter. The words they say are full of terror and darkness and Sherlock<br/>considers it a fake tale for kids, but not when strange things start to happen<br/>in the city of London.</p><p>There’s a new enemy around, too powerful to stop and it is directed right to<br/>Sherlock, making him doubt about his own thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Master Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone out there :)  
> My name is Kris and this is a fanfiction based on BBC Sherlock. It talks about Sherlock and John having to deal with a female criminal genius; Brigit Burkings a.k.a "Master Mind". She has what they call "hyper brain activity" and is an attention seeker. After being imprisoned for six years at home by her parents, she escapes and comes back later for revenge. I hope you like the story. I have not really planned out very well what wil happen in the next chapters but you are welcome to suggest. Please comment your opinion; it gives me very much pleasure to read them and it motivates me to write :)

~~~~

_"It was you. You, all the time!" John yelled through clenched teeth. "You bloody freak."_  
 _"Careful, Johnny boy." she smiled carelessly. "Your words hurt me."_  
 _"Hurt you? Beasts don't get hurt." he spat, anger driving him around. "You.. Stop. Stop it!"_  
  
 _He was shaking on the floor like a fish without water, eyes red and watery and pale skin. It was like something was sucking the little oxygen left in his lungs out, and he couldn't do anything about it._  
 _And John couldn't help. It frighten him to death. His best friend, his everything was slowly giving up to the human devil wandering the room like a thriller._  
  
 _"No, no don't." he cried out as the other man perished noiselessly._

"Sherlock! John yelled standing up in his bed.   
Breathing heavily, he recognized his room and closed his eyes to relax. _A nightmare. It was just a nightmare_ , he convinced himself.  
He was soaking from sweat and his heart was pounding in his chest. Insecure of his own steps John stood up.   
The sound of Sherlock's violin being played filled his ears pleasantly so he went downstairs to get a glass of water, or better, to convince his troubled mind that Sherlock Holmes was alive and not suffocating.  
John entered the room and found his flatmate on his usual position by the window focused on something rather nonexistent. Hearing his steps, Sherlock turned slowly, looking at him, extremely calm.  
"It's only an unpleasant dream John." he spoke setting down the instrument.  
"I know I know." he whispered more to himself.

"It is unreal." Sherlock continued filling him a cup of tea. "I'm not dead, John."  
"Wait.. How do you know what I was dreaming?" he asked after taking a sip.  
"You yelled 'Sherlock, don't die.', that's why I know, obviously." the taller man stated sitting in front of John.  
John watched as his gaze focused on a newspaper, not really usual of Sherlock. He only read those when they talked ironically about him.  
"What is wrong?" he asked without holding back.   
"Get washed and dressed. We're to have clients in about an hour." Sherlock said standing up to rest on his old sofa again.  
John watched him, reminding himself again that life without Sherlock was empty and just, solid.  
He was addicted to this freaky sociopath, to his genuine mind and spontaneous actions. Breathing finally, he got up and did as said.

__


	2. Snow White and the Huntsman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock finds out who is Brigit Burkington.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello fellas! How you doing?

To the majority of people Sherlock Holmes was a conceited mad man; a psychopath who liked to pry on other people's private affairs. He was rather exasperating than a born genius. But sometimes he saved lives and solved problems that noone ever could. And on other times, he was the one to create those problems.

Sherlock Holmes was a great man and one day if the world was very lucky he could even be a good one.  There was a very small  number of people who really concerned about him and John Watson was on top of the list. He had killed a crazy taxist to protect his flatmate only two days after they met. He didn't know Sherlock, not at all, but he never hesitated a second about moving in the same apartment with the detective that same day. John was connected, tied to Sherlock and two years without him had only made John feel hollow and useless. It was true that many nights he didn't sleep because Sherlock had a case at the tips of his fingers and also that most of his dates were ruined by the same exact person.

But the doctor didn't mind at all, becuase he believed that inside that man there was a hero, hiding to the rest of the world. And noone could ever convince about the opposite.  
He took a quick shower and wore comfortable for that October Sunday morning, skipping the idea of having breakfast outside as it was already eleven a.m, instead, he visited mrs. Hudson and enjoyed a croissant with warm coffee. Sherlock did not join as usual. Only forty minutes later he warned him that the bell was about to ring and John was already at the door when it did so. He opened it carefully and a midage couple were in front of him. They were dressed well, expensive and posture straight. He invited them in and climbed the stairs to the living room, where Sherlock had taken his usual seat in front of John's vacant one.

"Please, sit down." he offered pointing at the sofa. 

The woman looked around the flat with a smudged expression and studied the sofa well before sitting down, unlike her husband who seemed very calm.

"So.." John broke the ice. "What can we do for you, Mr..?"

"Burkings." the man spoke before his woman did. "We want you to find our daughter."

_Confident. Firsthanded. Smoker, tries to hide it from his wife. Coward. Expensive cologne; Clive Christian. Plays golf, two times a week. Marriage problems; still, doesn't cheat on wife. Stressed. Self-depended. Didn't sleep well; maximum three hours of  disturbed sleep. Rich breakfast. Came here by car; judging by shoes. High ground car; slight dust marks on back of trousers._

"Yes." Sherlock stood up interrupting his deducing.

"Can you, explain what happened?" John asked ignoring Sherlock's awkward answer.

"Her name is, Brigit-Was, actually." Burkings corrected himself as his wife glared at him for not letting her speak. "She died, ten years ago. Murder."

"So you want us to find your; daughter corpse-  
"She came back." Sherlock stated staring out of his window.  
"Yes." the man responded. "Well, we don't know. Some days ago we found a recording." he said taking out a dvd from his coat.

"Our daughter was kidnapped ten years ago. They requested six million, we needed more days but they were impatient.. They killed her." Mrs. Burkings breathed.

"But we found this." her husband said. "It's a tape."

"Can we see it?" John asked.

"Yes. It is very-"

"Someone sent that tape to you. Was it on your doorstep? Mail box? Hm, no. You live in a villa. Someone left it for you. Not in the house, of course." Sherlock raced the words.

"It was in my office." the man said handling the dvd to John. "My secretary found it on her desk in the morning with a note."

"Clever." the detective smirked.

John turned on the TV and dvd player inserting the tape in. The screen went white and the video started playing.  
 _A dark room with a dim light in the center. A young girl, really young, tied to a wooden chair in the center, looking in front of her. The sound of a door opening is heard and a tall man comes inside laughing. The girl looks at him straight in the eye, not fearing at all. So unusual of a child._

_"Your dear parents didn't pay in time. What are we going to do about it, sweety?" he laughs ruthlessly rocking her hair and she doesn't move._

_He wanders into the room and takes out a gun from his belt. Moving he goes in front of the girl, pointing the gun right at her forehead._

_"Sorry, sweety. Your last words for me?"_

_She raises her head high looking at him with pride._

_"Everyting you have ever known is false. Everything you have ever feared is true."_

_The man in a mask laughs again not leaving the gun. "Oh, really? Why so?"_

_"You shall never know." she replies, smiling._

_"Bye, bye, Brigit Burkings." he greets and shoots her once, twice, three times. Her head sways back and forth and blood covers her head._

John froze, feeling every single bullet in his chest. It reminded him of war. But it wasn't over.

_The killer leaves the room and leaves the dead body alone.  A few seconds pass. Suddenly, the girl raises her head._

John stood up coming closer to the TV. She couldn't be alive. Not with those injuries.

_The rope almost unties itself and falls on the floor effortlessly. The girl stands up, blood still on her forehead and starts streching her neck. The lights go out._

The screen went blank again and John could barely breathe.

"Mr. Burkings, you aknowledge we don't work with fake tales for adolescents." Sherlock spoke.

"I know what it looks like." Burkings stood up. "I thought so too."

"She has done these things before." his wife added.

Sherlock shook his head and returned to the window.

"She called herself, Master Mind." his wife continued. "She was diagnosed with hyper brain activity. Usually it slows down kids her age, but to her.. it was, different."  
"Are you saying us your daughter is paranormal?" John asked, furious.  
"Yes. Please help us. We tried to hire other detectives but they refused." Burkings begged. "Please Mr. Holmes. We need to find her. If she is out there, she needs to be tracked down."

"No." Sherlock respoded firmly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a lot for reading. I'm updating tonight with a long chapter too. Hoped you liked this and tell me if I made any mistakes. Also please comment your opinion; Was it wrong of Sherlock to say 'no'?


	3. If you play with fire..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John goes on a date. Sherlock dances in his mind palace.

The couple left the the flat and soon John was left with Sherlock  staring out of his window continuously, not moving a single muscle.

"What if it was true?" John asked pacing in circles around the room. "The tape, the things they said?"

The detective chose not to respond, which only irritated him more. He sat down on his usual spot and stared at the dvd case. Something was wrong with it. Still unsure, he played it again, over and over, different times. It seemed too real to be a movie. It couldn't. He had seen people being killed to death a lot of times before and he knew exactly how it proceeded. But he couldn't understand at all how the bloody hell the girl could survive it, with no pain, if the whole ever was true

"Sherlock!" he finally yelled at the man. "Can you quit doing the telescopic and help me over here?"

"Help with what, John?" the detective replied still away in thoughts.

"Jesus Christ, Sherlock why didn't you just take the damn case?" he yelled once again, burning in distress.

"It doesn't want me too."

"What?" John asked. "Who."

"Don't take the case." Sherlock whispered.

John crossed his eyebrows and stared at his flatmate in confusion. Standing up, he slowly reached the place where the other one was standing and looked out. In a matter of seconds, his pupils went wide and his mouth open.

Written in flaming red, just in front of him, right on the building on the other side of the street.

'DON'T TAKE THE CASE'

John blinked once or twice not believing his own eyes. He read every single capital again and glanced at Sherlock. 

"What.. How?" he asked.

"It's fresh, but not a speed work." Sherlock deduced, "Not with a brush. Almost, handwritten."

They both stared at the artwork, millions of ideas dancing around their minds. _Who wrote that? Why did they? When?_

Even though they could really spend hours studying the writing, John Watson had to move on. He was a doctor after all, he had a job to take care of and finally, a date for the night. Her name was Alice. She was beautiful, really, and he was taking her to a chinese restaurant for dinner.  He did not tell his flatmate as he knew perfectly Sherlock would do everything to mess it up and that's the last thing he wished for.  So he got dressed again, wore his best shoes and by eight o'clock he was ready to go.

"I'm going out." he announced, but Sherlock was off to his mind palace and barely could hear him. He decided to leave it off and stormed outside, somehow happy that he didn't have to explain Sherlock the whole dating thing. He decided to take a cab to her place and enjoyed London from the side window. Meanwhile Sherlock was in his own world.

 

He walked through the corridors of his mind palace, enjoying only the sound of his shoes meeting the floor. He reached a red door and opened it slowly, a bit suspicious. The room was empty, white walls, with each word written on the four of them; 'DON'T, TAKE, THE, CASE'. Sherlock breathed and stared at the words,  touched them, the texture. Suddenly, music started playing. He turned around, eyebrows furrowed. He was the only one in the place, who could ever put music there?  
Walking slowly, he directed himself to where the melody came from..

\--

"So, you solve crimes with Sherlock Holmes." Alice laughed almost angellically.

"Yes, I do." John responded. "Well to be honest, he does. I just stare asking myself 'What the bloody hell' most of the time."

They both laughed at their words, enjoying the awful sushi.

"Seriously, this food is making my stomach spin."

"Yeah, mine too." Alice agreed.

"How about.. Barbeque night?" John suggested smirking at the idea.

"How about.. Bloody yes?" Alice replied and they got up, sneaking out from the place, giggling like teens.

 --

As he arrived the front door, Sherlock tried to open it as silently as possible. He walked inside slowly, only to see a woman, young, sitting on a bench in the coner of the door, Sherlock facing her back. Not breathing a word, Sherlock walked closer and stopped in his tracks.

The girl was wearing a short brown, leather coat and her hair was jet black and very long. She must seem to have noticed the detective in the room, because she turned her head just slightly.

"Good evening, Mr. Holmes." she greeted standing up.

"Good evening." Sherlock replied.

The younger finally turned around. She had brown eyes, shaped eyebrows and plump lips. She smiled slightly with pride and looked at Sherlock, from head to toe. Sherlock did the same.

"Care for a dance?" she suggested as the music still played.

"With pleasure." he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehe Sherlock dancing with unknown girl OuO

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is rather short but the next one will be long, I promise :) Keep on reading and comment comment comment! **


End file.
